consider me unimpressed
by blairswaldorfs
Summary: Lydia is unimpressed with Stiles' public make-out session in the middle of a party. Enter Allison Argent, also unimpressed. lydia/allison.


**note: **a "and it turns out our friends are making out with each other, this is awkward au" set in an au world where werewolves &amp; co. don't exist. university.

—

Lydia life-of-the-party-queen-of-high-school Martin is sitting on a dingy old faded mustard couch in the middle of a party. By herself. Her date for the evening, an old friend - and she used that term loosely, _very_ loosely - had deserted her the moment they entered, leaving the former social butterfly a social recluse. It turned out while everyone loved her fiery charm, quick wit and blunt insults back in high school, people preferred a more mellow, _nice _person in university. Lydia watches Stiles, said friend who ditched her, flirt with some brunette in the corner who's laughing at all his jokes and frowns. If he had come her to flirt and fit his way into someone elses pants, why did he have to drag her along? She'd been against the idea of coming to this ridiculous party from the start.

She glances down at the cheap red plastic cup in her hand, filled with a liquid substance she can't identify, but smells like cheap beer. _"You're supposed to drink it, Lydia." _Stiles had said as he pushed the cup into her hand, his parting gift. Lydia looks back up at him, groaning in disgust as she watches him shove his tongue down the brunette's throat. _God_ \- parties like this were gross.

"Not a fan, either?" A voice bubbles from next to her, a brunette has sat down by her side with an identical red plastic cup in her hand. Her nose crinkled in slight horror as she watches Stiles and his brunette friend go at it in the middle of the party. Lydia gives the girl next to her a sly once over, her eyes roaming from her face - which, by the way, is _really_ pretty - down to the cute floral dress she's wearing, the jacket she's got hanging around her shoulders (which Lydia is half in love with) and the ankle boots adorning her feet. Lydia presses her lips together in approval, deeming the girl worthy enough to talk to.

"Not at all." Lydia replies, watching as the brunette lifts her lips up in a smile and directs all her attention on Lydia.

"I'm Allison." She introduces. Her voice is soft and light, it sounds sort of like a bird. Lydia smiles at Allison, (_Allison_, a beautiful name for a beautiful girl, she muses).

"Lydia." She replies. Glances back towards where Stiles and his new friend are, hands roaming over body parts that they should _not_ be roaming around in public. Scrunches up her nose and leans back against the dirty couch in frustration, her disgust for it long gone by now.

"It's just - it's in the _middle_ of a party. I get that you do that at parties but still..." Lydia trails off, glancing at Allison to see if she's paying attention. Allison's nodding her head, humming along with what Lydia's saying, her eyes narrowly pointed on the couple. "It's so high school, okay? And gross." Lydia adds. Allison laughs at that, nodding her head eagerly and brushing her hair back with her fingers. Lydia catches sight of a few rings on her fingers, she's entranced by the sight.

"I totally get it." Allison responds, taking a small sip from her red plastic cup before scrunching her nose up in disgust. Lydia thinks it's cute, the way her nose scrunches up and she blinks her eyes a few times.

"Okay, _gross_." Allison says, stressing the word gross as she puts her cup down on the table in front of them. Lydia follows her action, not planning on drinking it if that's the response from Allison. Not that she was planning on drinking it anyway. Her eyes flit back over to where Stiles and the girl are _still_ going at it, hands roaming, tongues pushing and shifts uncomfortably in her seat. It's sort of embarrassing, actually. Stiles literally can't keep it in his pants, Lydia understands that all through high school he couldn't get a single date but that didn't mean he has to make up for it by embarrassingly making out with everyone at parties.

"Ugh," Allison groans next to her, her eyes still attached to the couple. "It's like a trainwreck."

Lydia nods, feeling a blush creep against her cheeks. That's her friend, and yes, she uses that term loosely but _still._ If Allison ever finds out that she _knows_ him- Lydia doesn't even want to finish that thought. Instead she brushes her hand against the skirt of her dress and smiles at Allison.

"So, you go to school here?" She asks, trying to make conversation. Trying to be _friendly_, ("_Try and make friends_" Stiles had told her). It's not hard to do with a girl like Allison - she's the kind of girl she guesses would win popularity contests easily, she has a certain charm and grace and sweetness about her that would make people want to gravitate towards her. Lydia's impressed and jealous, she had to claw her way to the top.

"Yeah." Allison replies, grinning excitedly like it's a topic she loves to talk about. Except, she doesn't get the chance because Stiles flops down onto the couch next to Lydia, all long limbs and wipes the back of his hand against his mouth. Lydia cringes. Her eyes search for the girl he was with but she can't find her.

"Alright, Lyds. I'm leaving." Stiles grins, waggling his eyebrows in a crude, suggestive manner. Lydia rolls her eyes, feeling embarrassment creep up on her as he speaks. His friend soon joins him on the couch, too, making matters even _worse_. She climbs up on his lap, holds his face in between her hands and shoves her tongue down his mouth. Lydia watches on, mouth hanging slightly open in shock and horror - they're sitting _right_ next to _her_. Allison has a similar expression on her face, her cheeks flushed red and averting her eyes slightly in shame.

Lydia is at a lost for words. Things like this, like friend-makes-out-with-a-girl-right-next-to-you-while-you're-talking-to-a-really-pretty-girl don't happen to Lydia Martin. Or they didn't in high school.

"God, _enough!_" Allison spits out, climbing over Lydia to give the girl a shove.

"What?" The girl says, eyebrows furrowed as she tears her lips away from Stiles'. Allison glares at the girl, giving off the impression that she knows the girl.

"What?" Allison mimics, "Malia! You're in the middle of a party." She hisses. Malia grins at that, shrugging her shoulders.

"What are parties for?" She retorts. Stiles looks amused.

"Not for such overt public displays of affection." Lydia retorts.

"Hey!" Stiles says, speaking up for the first time.

Allison blushes, turning to face Lydia. "Sorry, she's..." Allison trails off, eyes landing on Malia.

Lydia nods her head in understanding, shrugging her shoulders in the direction of Stiles. "He's horrible. I get it. Don't be sorry. It's not your fault some people don't have _manners_." Lydia hisses the last part with her eyes planted firmly on Stiles and Malia. Allison laughs at that, a laugh that flows from her lips and sounds like angels parting the heavens above. It's a poetic sort of laugh, the one you find on dusty old pages of writing, in between love sonnets and declarations. Stiles and Malia, who haven't seemed to pay any real attention to what Lydia and Allison have been saying, go back to shoving their tongues together.

"Wanna get out of here?" Allison laughs, standing up and extending a hand towards Lydia.

"Yes, please." Lydia says eagerly, desperate to get away from the sight, the awkwardness and uncomfortableness of the situation. She fumbles with her phone for a second, opening the camera and quickly taking a picture to send to Scott who lives for these sort of things - embarrassment of one Stiles Stilinski - but because of attending a different university isn't available to see it first hand. Her fingers tap across the screen, quickly sending it to him before she loops her arm with Allison's and waltzes out of the party. At least one good thing came of Stiles' awkward make-out session.


End file.
